


Erik of Genosha

by Ook



Series: Tourist [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles You Will Come, Erik being creepy, M/M, Or as close to it as I get, PWP, an excuse for porn, dub con, my id let me show you it, which isn't very
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ook/pseuds/Ook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No, you haven’t done anything illegal. And no, you aren’t a tourist. Anymore.” He smiled, thin lips stretching to reveal a terrifying amount of teeth.<br/>“I don’t understand.” Charles said, plaintively. The stranger prowled closer, looming over Charles like a raptor, fixed on his prey. <br/>“Please…” Charles said, weakly, and was ignored.<br/>“What you are.” Said the stranger, gently. “Is mine.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erik of Genosha

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God. 
> 
> This is essentially my framing chapter for some plotless porns. Yes, I need 1000 words of exposition first. Why are you surprised?
> 
> Updated irregularly.

“I think there’s been some kind of mistake.” Charles said, urgently. The other man ignored him, staring steadily as he loped around the holding cell. Charles licked his lips, and tried not to move his shoulders. The hand cuffs were starting to chafe, but he did not want to draw the other man’s attention to them.  
“I… I haven’t done anything wrong, I’m a tourist, I’m just-“  
“No.” the gray-green eyed man said, curtly. Still staring.  
“What?” Charles said, in some confusion. His stomach was starting to churn.

“No, you haven’t done anything illegal. And no, you aren’t a tourist. Anymore.” He smiled, thin lips stretching to reveal a terrifying amount of teeth.  
“I don’t understand.” Charles said, plaintively. The stranger prowled closer, looming over Charles like a raptor, fixed on his prey. Charles stood up, sharply, ignoring the clatter as his chair fell over. He backed away a few steps. The other man grinned again, and moved closer. Charles backed up until his cuffed hands hit the wall.

The stranger moved into his space, leaning on the wall with one arm, effectively boxing Charles in. He leant closer to Charles, and smirked again. Charles stared up at him, hypnotised by his steady gaze, almost forgetting the holding cell, the cuffs, the fact that he understood none of this. The stranger was tall, and leanly handsome, with auburn hair and a ginger scruff around his chin. He was also faintly familiar.  
“Please…” Charles said, weakly, and was ignored.  
“What you are.” Said the stranger, gently. “Is mine.” He drew a deep, almost shuddering breath, and added. “Legally.”

“No, I’m Charles Xavier, a professor at Oxford, I’m just on holiday here, you don’t understand.” Charles said, frantically. This couldn’t be happening. Oh God, this _couldn’t_ be happening. “There must be some kind of, of arrangement, something- Don’t I get a phone call?”  
“You are not in America. Or some film.” The other said, curtly. “You are in my realm, now.” He smiled, and added, teasingly “Tourist, didn’t you bother to learn anything about the countries you visit?”

“Sit down.” he said, simply, and stepped away. Courteously, he lifted Charles’ chair from where it had fallen, and gestured, welcomingly. There was little Charles could do. His feet hurt too. He sat, and tried to concentrate on slowing his breathing.  
“The people who kidnapped you brought you to my country. Tourist.” Erik said, as Charles seated himself. “That makes you mine.”  
“Kidnapped?” Charles said, bewildered. “It was just a coach tour.”

A coach tour that had been rather… aggressive in its selling of tickets, certainly. A coach tour that had made unexplained stops, and cancellations of visits to interesting sites, and re-ordered its schedule until Charles had become quite unable to work out where they were, or why. Charles was certain, if he’d wanted to walk away, he could have done so quite easily. Well. Fairly certain. Well. They hadn’t had any weapons that Charles could see, anyway. Then the other man tilted his head, appraisingly, and, just like that, Charles was able to place him.

“You’re Erik of Genosha. This is _Genosha_ ” Charles said, as realisation struck. The stranger nodded, and bowed, mockingly, without getting up. Charles started thinking rapidly. He had heard of Erik and Genosha. A paradise-like country, full of happy people, ruled by a tyrant with iron in his bones. Of course there had been rumours, of _cultural differences_ , of, well, harems, and concubines and so on, but Charles had dismissed than as foolish whispers. They had had some bearing on his decision to avoid the country; as neither the US nor the UK, his two countries, had strong diplomatic presences there. 

“But… I didn’t intend to visit-“ Erik snorted.  
“They traffic people, at that Coach Tour Company. Shift them from country to country, no questions to be asked. You, Tourist, were maybe cover for their real work, maybe a nice extra bit of income for them if they find a buyer.” He said, amused again.  
“B-buyer?” Charles faltered. This all seemed too nightmarish to be real.  
“Don’t tell me you don’t know how pretty you are. Tourist.” Erik said, amused.

Charles flushed. Now Erik was just mocking him. He looked away.  
“But, why would that make me yours?” Charles added, hastily “I mean, being kidnapped? I may have entered the country illegally, but not intentionally-”  
“Certainly, we stopped practising the Genoshan equivalent of the droit de seigneur not long after your Victoria became Queen.” Erik said, gravely.   
“What.”

“You are mine because they did find a buyer. Tourist.” Erik said. And smiled. Charles shot to his feet, and backed away again. He began to breathe more quickly.  
“No.” he said. He liked the sound of it, so he said it again. “ _No_.” Erik stood, and raised his hands, placatingly. Charles moved away again. There wasn’t enough air in the room.  
“No.” Erik said. “I didn’t buy you. One of my enemies did.”  
“Oh, that makes it so much better.” Charles said, weakly. He couldn’t breathe properly.

Charles swayed. He hoped he could wake up soon. Oh god, how was he going to survive this? All the rumours, the whispers about Genosha, about it’s terrible ruler and his perverse desires came back to him in a roaring flood. Dizzy, he leant back against the wall for support, and felt his feet begin to slide out from under him. Erik said something, sharply, but Charles was too busy hyperventilating to answer. The room began to dim around him. Erik was coming towards him again. Charles tried to push himself along the wall, but it didn’t work.

Erik bent over him, muttering. He did something, behind Charles’ back, and then his hands were free. Immediately, Charles tried to curl up, block everything out, but strong hands were on him, forcing him back into his chair, and holding his head between his knees. The world sharpened as his breathing steadied.  
“Sorry.” He said, on automatic pilot. Erik said nothing, but his hand stopped pushing down on Charles’ neck quite so hard.  
“Pay attention to your breathing” he said, eventually.

“I, yes, something like that- I’m not good at feeling trapped.” Charles muttered into his knees.  
“Who is?” Erik said, graciously, removing his hand. This seemed to be some kind of signal, and Charles straightened. He did not regret the loss of the heavy warmth from his neck. Not at all.  
“*I find it hard to believe you’ve ever felt trapped.” He said, and oh God that sounded like flirting, didn’t it. Erik looked away briefly.  
“Only shows how little you know, Tourist.” He said, after a pause. “Come.” 

“What?” Charles said, again. Erik smirked. He seemed to do that a lot, Charles thought. Possibly that was why he was so good at it.  
“An invitation, Tourist. Come with me. Let me show you Genosha.” Erik said, and now his smile was really dangerously close to charming.  
“If I’m supposedly yours, why are you asking me?” Charles said, nervously. He couldn’t stand head games.  
“Ah.” Erik said. “Come with me. Find out.”


End file.
